


The Case of Matching Green Doors

by digthewriter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Background fluid relationships and threesomes, Bisexual Harry, Confident Harry, Flustered Draco, Frotting, Good & bad flirting, M/M, Masturbation, Mention of Harry and past relationships, Minor Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Neville Longbottom/Luna Lovegood, Oblivious Harry, Scheming Friends, fantasising, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-01-31 02:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21438361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter
Summary: Malfoy accidentally walks into Harry's room and falls asleep on the bed next to him. Or… When Harry finds out Malfoy has really cold feet. Literally.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 10
Kudos: 362
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2019





	The Case of Matching Green Doors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [otayuriistheliteralbest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/otayuriistheliteralbest/gifts).

> All my thanks to: Jademoon (from Discord) for the beta. All the remaining mistakes are mine. Thanks to the MODS for hosting this awesome fest. I love being a part of it. And I hope [lalionnebelle](https://lalionnebelle.tumblr.com/) enjoys this fic.

The first thing Harry felt were Malfoy's cold feet. He wasn't used to sleeping with someone in bed, and beyond that, he wasn't used to Malfoy stumbling into his.

"Malfoy?"

Harry asked because what were the odds? Ginny was with Blaise, Ron with Hermione, and Parkinson hadn't arrived yet. The only other person on this floor in the ski lodge was Malfoy. Who had a room on the opposite side of the hallway. Luna and Neville were sharing a room on the floor above.

"_Wha…_"

Malfoy sounded disoriented. Exactly how much had he drank? 

Unfortunately for Harry, he was recovering from a cold and opted for tea all evening.

"You're in my bed, Malfoy."

"Potter?" he asked, and Harry wanted to roll his eyes.

Of all the people she could have chosen to marry, why did Harry's ex pick Draco Malfoy's best friend?

"Oh. Bugger…" Malfoy said but made no effort to move.

"Are you drunk?" asked Harry.

"Slightly. Sorry, Potter. I didn't know where I was going and thought this green door was mine."

"And didn't realise your cold feet were touching something warm?"

"You are rather warm," Malfoy said, sounding almost wistful. "Apologies again. I thought I'd already begun dreaming."

Two beats of silence. 

"Would you mind if I stayed?" he asked a moment later when Harry hadn't responded. Honestly, Harry had no idea what to say until then. And at Malfoy's question, he was mute still. "It's… it's so warm here and I've just taken a shower and _am_ a bit inebriated—"

"Fine," Harry huffed and turned away. "Best keep your distance, all right?"

Harry heard Malfoy scoff. "Don't flatter yourself, Potter."

_It was just the weekend_. Harry reminded himself.

Harry edged himself away from Malfoy, but for whatever reason, Malfoy's feet were still tangled with Harry's. Harry reckoned he was generally a lot warmer than most people, and Malfoy _was_ unusually cold. Even if he told Harry to not flatter himself, Harry felt rather smug knowing Malfoy was using him for warmth.

_Don't flatter yourself, Potter_. "Tell yourself that tomorrow night when you don't have anything to heat your feet with…" Harry grumbled.

Slowly, almost as if hesitant, Malfoy pulled his feet away. Harry tried really and truly hard not to dwell on how that made him feel. He sort of liked the idea of how Malfoy needed him—the man often walked around acting as if he didn't need anything.

++==++

Malfoy was Blaise Zabini's best friend. When Ginny announced to Harry, Ron, and Hermione she'd been dating Zabini on and off for a few years now, Harry didn't know what to think of it.

They'd tried to make it work after the war, and for the most part, it was good. But, Harry felt something was missing. When they'd broken up and Harry'd kissed a man for the first time, he'd realised what it was. He wasn't gay. Not completely. But, he definitely found himself imagining writhing against the men in the Quidditch team more than the women. The women were nice to look at, no doubt, but Harry thought about what it'd be like to be shoved up against a wall, a hard knee in-between his legs, a _harder_ cock against his own.

His friends were been pretty cool about him being bisexual, and Harry tried dating, but his celebrity status almost always got in the way. Wizards knew him too much, and Muggles didn't know him enough. His Muggle boyfriends always knew he was hiding _something_; they never stuck around to find out what it was. 

And now Ginny was marrying Zabini—Harry needed to get used to seeing Malfoy around. To make matters worse, when Malfoy didn't show up to events, Harry found himself wondering where he was.

But this weekend? Yeah, he knew Malfoy was going to be there. He hadn't expected Malfoy to drunkenly stumble into his bed or finding out Malfoy dreamt of men with warm skin. 

And then Harry wondered: Was Malfoy lonely, too?

++==++

Having forgotten the minor mishap of the night before, Harry woke up feeling refreshed. However, feeling a body next to his made the entire awkward ordeal come rushing back. Malfoy was still there.

Malfoy was _still_ there.

Further than that, his face was buried in the crook of Harry's neck and his arm was wrapped around Harry's torso. How did they end up in this position? And how did Harry not _feel_ this?

He tried clearing his throat.

Then… "_Um. Malfoy?_"

Harry kept his eyes closed, but he could feel Malfoy stiffen next to him. Malfoy immediately removed himself away from Harry's body.

"My sincere apologies, Potter."

There was a rustling of the sheets, and by the time Harry managed to get his glasses and look, Malfoy was standing still.

"What time is it?" Harry asked.

"A little after five o'clock."

"Okay. You better head to your room then—people are gonna wake up and get the wrong idea." 

Malfoy looked at him strangely. "You won't mention this to anyone?"

Harry chuckled. "What? How you drunkenly walked into my room, used me for body heat, and then had your half-hard cock pressed against my thigh…"

Malfoy's face went crimson, and Harry worried his head was going to explode.

"I'm joking, Malfoy. I swear it." Harry sat up. 

Malfoy's eyes raked over Harry's chest and down his stomach—when Harry realised his shirt rode up and his trousers slid down. Harry pulled up the covers feeling exposed and aroused at the way Malfoy was looking at him. Before he could say anything, Malfoy spoke up.

"Again, my apologies. Please know this isn't very typical of me. I don't know… I don't know what happened. I'd appreciate if you kept this mishap between us."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, no worries, mate."

Malfoy gave him a quizzical look and all but ran out the door, but still managed to gently close it behind him.

_Why did I have to say that thing about his cock_? Harry groaned and laid back down, hiding himself under the covers, and noticing the faint scent on his pillows.

Malfoy.

His own cock grew hard as Harry buried his face in the pillow and started to stroke himself. This was a terrible idea. Still, Harry closed his eyes, remembering the way Malfoy's breath felt on his skin; how his arm was heavy and assuring around his torso, and worst of all, how smooth his feet felt against Harry's legs.

"_Fuck_…" Harry whispered. Harry wanted to lick Malfoy's skin, bite down on his lower lip, and press his cock against Malfoy's hip. Or, maybe he'd want Malfoy's hand linger down to Harry's cock and stroke him. Wake him up like that. All sweet and gentle-like, until Harry was hard as a rock and then Malfoy would suck him off.

_So close…_ Harry's thumb brushed against the head of his cock, hoping and wishing, imagining Malfoy's lips around them. He'd be good at it. He'd be _so good_ at fucking Malfoy's face.

After Harry spilled, he brought his fingers up to his mouth and licked them. It was the closest thing to kissing Malfoy after coming down his throat.

_Keep this up, Potter, and the entire weekend is going to be a disaster._

++==++

After breakfast, which Malfoy evidently didn't show up for, Harry still wasn't feeling well enough to go skiing with his friends. Parkinson arrived late last night, and Harry thought he heard Zabini mention _Draco_ having an early morning coffee with her.

"What will you do here by yourself?" Hermione asked, sounding worried. "Maybe I should stay—"

"No!" Ron said, panicking. Ron didn't want to go alone. Besides, Harry knew he had a surprise for her and it'd all be ruined if she stayed back with Harry. "I mean…"

"I'll be fine, Hermione. I brought some work with me in case I wasn't up for it. I have to finish the report—"

"You mean you still haven't submitted the paperwork for the Uvior case?" Her eyes widened, and it looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets.

Harry sighed. "I have to rewrite the last findings, and no, you can't stay here and help me with the report. Please, just go with Ron and everyone else, okay?"

Ron looked relieved at Harry's resolute stance, and Hermione nodded. It would be against her principles to write the report for him, and he was glad for it. A little alone time in the resort would be good. He could catch up on his work and forget about the little _incident_ with Malfoy. Heck, maybe he'd find another lost soul around at the tavern and take him up to his room. Locking the door this time. 

The weekend away was good, Harry thought. Even though they were all there for a mini-holiday before Ginny and Zabini's engagement party, Harry looked forward to a change in scenery. Initially, he wasn't certain if he should have accompanied the group for the holiday, but apparently Harry being there meant it was finally clear to Zabini: Ginny and Harry weren't still hung up on each other.

Even if they'd been broken up for five years.

Everyone in their group of friends was relatively fluid. Luna and Neville occasionally took in a male lover, while Ron and Hermione often had threesomes with other women, but Zabini was straight through and through. And he was extremely jealous and possessive of Ginny.

Harry didn't know how Ginny stood for it, given it was what she'd always hated about Dean. But through the years, they'd all changed, and maybe there was something about Zabini that clicked with Ginny.

That thing which Harry hadn't managed to find for himself.

Trying not to dwell on his own lack of a love life, Harry grabbed his quill and work parchments and made his way to the lodge's guest-office which was in the basement. The room was filled with books and working stations, but it was deserted for the most part. Harry expected it to be so. The ski-lodge's appeal was that there was something for everyone there, but he didn't think most people came there to do work.

He set up his station and began copying his notes… trying to make a sense of it when… he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

Harry couldn't hide his surprise at seeing Malfoy. "What are you doing here?" he asked, almost accusingly. His work mode was on, and it wasn't difficult for Harry to find himself being suspicious of Malfoy. 

"What are _you_ doing here?" Malfoy asked in return, and as if almost on cue, Harry sneezed.

"I'm not feeling well. Didn't think a skiing excursion was in the stars for me."

"So you're _here_?" Malfoy looked around, as if he expected Harry to be anywhere but.

"Catching up on work," Harry replied. "So, why are you here?"

Malfoy made a face and crossed the room in three strides. Was Harry supposed to find that sexy? Fuck, he needed to go on the pull. And soon. Without answering, Malfoy started to look over Harry's notes, then the small pieces of parchment, and started to organise them.

"It'll work better if you get your thoughts together first," Malfoy said, his hands working quickly, then spelling the parchments so the words flew together, making complete sentences.

"Hermione calls it cheating," Harry said, amused. He was mesmerised by Malfoy's hands, his long fingers, and his clipped and short fingernails. _So clean. Would they taste—_

Harry's mouth dried.

"Granger is brilliant. But she can also be a bit obsessive."

"So you've noticed?" Harry said in a teasing tone.

Malfoy gave a small chuckle, then he presented the rough draft of Harry's notes to him. "Here you go. Does it make sense?"

Harry looked over the draft. "Technically, I'm not allowed to show anyone the case notes. This is a violation of—"

"Right, sorry." Malfoy stepped back, and Harry immediately missed the warmth of Malfoy's body. 

"It's fine, I promise!" Harry said quickly with his hands up in surrender. "I was kidding, Malfoy."

"Evidently, you seem to be full of jokes today," Malfoy said with a straight face.

"And you can't seem to take one," replied Harry. "So, are you going to help me finish this report, or what?"

"Why?" Malfoy asked, scowling.

"_Because_," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "What else have you got planned for the day?"

"Well, my plan wasn't to spend my day with _you_."

"Only your nights then?" Harry couldn't help himself. How did he manage to get this riled up with Malfoy around him for less than five minutes, while he dated other men for months and months and didn't feel his nerves tickle.

Malfoy opened his mouth to retort and then closed it.

Harry decided to save the poor bastard and handed him some other notes. "Here, organise these for me, and I'll finish off the first part."

Without a word, Malfoy came around Harry's workstation again, and they collaborated in silence. His reports were finished in record time, and Harry felt both satisfied for having accomplished something so quickly and nervous because he enjoyed when his fingers brushed against Malfoy's.

As Harry gathered his notes and his finished report, he moved away from Malfoy. His cold, which was tamed for the most part, only sniffling and sneezing, returned with a revenge. He went into a fit of coughing, his chest burning, and immediately felt dizzy.

"So much for that," he said to himself.

"Potter…" Malfoy rubbed small circles on Harry's back with one hand and held Harry's shoulder with the other. "When was the last time you took your medicine?"

Harry shrugged. "I hate those potions. They taste nasty. This will pass."

"It would pass faster if you drank your potions. You seemed… fine last night."

"I was," replied Harry. He stopped speaking when Malfoy pulled away from him.

The ease with which they'd been working seemed to have disappeared and the awkwardness took over again. Harry hated that. He liked it when Malfoy was touching him and wanted him to continue doing so.

"We should get some lunch," said Harry.

"Very well. I have something in my room, might help with the cough. You can mix it with your soup so you won't taste it."

"Thanks." Harry straightened up and gathered his things. Both he and Malfoy made their way up the stairs to their floor. Most of the doors were different colours, but Malfoy's and Harry's were the same shade of green. He understood now how Malfoy might have got disoriented and went in the wrong direction.

"See you at the tavern in a few," Harry said and went into his room as Malfoy headed to his.

++==++

"You had lunch with Malfoy?" Ron asked after they'd all returned for the day and went to clean up. Ron stopped by Harry's room to check on him and was surprised to find out Malfoy had helped Harry finish his reports. "What did you guys talk about?"

"I don't know, mostly Zabini and Ginny, I think. He explained how nervous Zabini was before proposing. They'd gone to over ten different shops trying to find the right ring. He didn't think she was going to say yes because he gets so jealous sometimes and she'd always be cross with him."

"But she said yes," Ron said, laughing. "She's changed a lot, you know. She sort of _likes_ it that he waits hand and foot on her. I know Mum adores him."

"Yeah…"

"Well, Mum likes you too, obviously."

Harry laughed. "No, I'm not worried about that."

"Then what?"

Harry bit his lower lip. "I think I fancy him."

"Zabini?" Ron asked, looking shocked.

"What? No." Harry sighed. "Malfoy."

"Oh." Ron looked uncharacteristically sheepish.

"_What_?"

"I think that's a revelation only to you, mate," replied Ron. He looked like he was holding back a laugh, so Harry only scowled at him. "Come on, you really didn't know?"

"Know I fancied someone? Him? No, Ron. I didn't. I thought… I don't know what I thought."

"Whenever we have a get-together, you're always watching him. I mean, at first Hermione and I thought it was because you were still convinced he was bad. But then, it became obvious. It's how we go to a party and find someone or don't find someone… you're always looking at him. Watching what he's doing. It's weird. You, like, stare at his _neck_."

"Neck?" Harry asked, surprised. "Well it is unusually long."

"Is it?" Ron asked, looking unamused. "You're fooling—"

Whatever Ron was going to say got interrupted when Hermione opened the door to Harry's room and peeked in. "You boys decent?" She walked in closing the door behind her and taking a seat next to Ron on Harry's bed. They were pressed close together and holding hands when Harry noticed it.

"You both did it?" he asked, happily.

"Yeah…" Ron beamed. Both Ron and Hermione were wearing a small silver ring on their right hand.

Ever since they'd opened their relationship, Ron was worried about Hermione. They were both into it, but Ron didn't want Hermione to ever think she would ever not be his primary focus and his primary partner. So this weekend, Ron was going to give Hermione a commitment ring. They weren't ready for marriage, not yet, but Ron was ready to make the promise of forever to her.

"So what are we talking about?" she asked, her fingers twined with Ron's and her head resting on Ron's shoulder.

"Harry just discovered he fancies himself a ferret."

"Finally!" Hermione said. "Now we're all going to be—" She stopped herself from saying whatever it was and Harry narrowed his eyes at his best friends.

"All going to what?" he asked, feeling sceptical.

Both Ron and Hermione looked at each other and smiled shyly.

Harry didn't know what to think. They were acting so strange and not like anything he'd seen before. "Please don't tell me you've shagged Malfoy." He said the words so quickly, he didn't know he'd actually uttered them. It felt like this was a big fear of his, and it didn't even make sense. They never brought a bloke in their mix before; not that he knew of.

"Of course not!" Ron said, sounding scandalised. "It's Parkinson." And then he slapped his hand on his mouth as if he hadn't meant to blurt that out, either.

"So Ginny's marrying a Slytherin. You two are shagging one now apparently and want me to get in bed with one too?" he asked, and then thought about the night before. "Did you _send_ him to me last night?"

"What do you mean?" Ron asked and both of his friends looked confused.

"Malfoy. He walked into my room last night and got in bed with me. Said something about how he thought it was his room because the doors—"

"I can't believe it worked," said Ron. When Harry didn't say anything, Ron continued, "It was Zabini's idea. He thought if he reserved your rooms which had matching doors, maybe one of you would confuse it with the other's and… well, it looks like it was a simple enough plan."

"Most simple plans work," said Hermione.

"You two are something else, do you know that?" Harry said, huffing. "I can't believe I'm friends with you."

"You're about twenty years too late, mate," said Ron, laughing. "And we have two more nights here at the lodge before we go back home, so maybe make the most of it? You know, Charlie's coming tomorrow night. So maybe we can give him Malfoy's room if he ends up sharing with you."

"I don't think Charlie's going to have a hard time finding a place to sleep, Ron," Harry replied.

++==++

When his friends left, Harry decided to think about what they'd said. Malfoy was a wizard who knew Harry too well but didn't seem at all impressed by him. If anything, being around Harry almost seemed like an inconvenience for him.

Still, there was something there. Maybe Malfoy didn't fancy Harry the way Harry seemed to find him fascinating, but maybe he hadn't thought about it. Maybe they both had simply deemed the other as out of reach.

But they weren't. They were right there. And if Zabini wanted Harry or Malfoy to confuse their door and walk into the other's room—that had to be for a reason too, right?

As he got ready for dinner with his friends, Harry took his time in the shower. He dressed well in his dark jeans that rested low on his hips, and his v-neck purple jumper. Luna told Harry once that his purple jumper made Neville weak in the knees—so he hoped it'd do the same for Malfoy.

Evidently, Luna was right on the money again. At their table in the tavern, Harry was sat next to Luna when both Neville and Malfoy walked into the room. They both looked at Harry at the same time and paused. Luna bumped Harry's knee before she got up to greet her boyfriend with a hug. Neville sat on Luna's other side, and Malfoy reluctantly sat next to Harry.

"Hello, again," Harry said softly. Malfoy only nodded.

Harry wasn't good at flirting, thus, he didn't even try. He hoped Malfoy found him attractive enough for now, and the rest would come later. He too had a simple plan.

The conversation at dinner was easy-going and fluid, and once again, Harry didn't drink any alcohol. He'd taken his potions beforehand, and already felt better. As the table laughed at some joke Ron made, Harry bumped his knee with Malfoy's, who looked uncomfortable and sat up straight. Harry had a moment of doubt: maybe he was reading the whole situation all wrong. Maybe his friends hoped he and Malfoy would get together, but in the end, Harry's feelings would be unrequited.

Malfoy didn't fancy him at all. Harry was nothing but an inconvenience for Malfoy.

_But you had lunch together. And he soothed you when you were having a coughing fit. He's not an arsehole, and if he's acting like one now, it's probably for a reason._

Harry was an Auror. He knew how to read a situation. He also knew how to back off and give his witnesses the room to open up themselves. He followed his training.

By dessert, Malfoy's knee was resting against Harry's, and their fingers brushed when Harry went to grab his fork, and Malfoy reached for his water glass. He too, wasn't drinking any alcohol tonight. Harry took it as a positive sign.

Still, as soon as the dinner was over, Harry didn't stick around the tavern. He said he was going to call it an early night because he wanted to rest up for the next day. One of the days of the weekend holiday, Harry was going to go skiing.

Or at least that was the idea.

++==++

Half an hour later, there was a knock on Harry's door. Harry waited a beat, then two, before the door opened, and Malfoy walked in. He was carrying a small bag in one hand and a parchment in the other.

_Need to warm your feet tonight? My door's always open for you. Only make sure to lock it behind you._

Harry had slid the note under Malfoy's door before heading down to dinner, and now as Malfoy walked in, he made to sure to lock them in.

"Are you going to bed soon?" Malfoy asked, edging closer.

Harry smiled. "I'm already in bed. But, I don't plan on going to sleep anytime soon," he said.

"Is this a joke?" Malfoy raised the parchment he was holding up.

Harry scowled. "Why are you here if you thought it was a joke?"

"Taking a calculated risk, I suppose," replied Malfoy.

"And last night?"

"That was an honest mistake, Potter."

"Lucky me," Harry said. And when Malfoy was close enough to the bed, Harry got up on his knees and reached for him. Pulling him closer still, Harry raked his fingers through Malfoy's hair. "Glad you're here."

"You are?"

"Why are you playing dumb, Malfoy? I know you're not stupid."

"I just can't believe. You. And _this_."

"Yeah, me neither. At the start of the weekend, I hadn't imagined we'd be like this, but I reckon I'm lucky. I got sick and stayed back today and spent the day with you. I would love to spend the night with you again. This time, it won't be a mistake."

"Potter…" Malfoy breathed against Harry's skin when they were chest to chest, their knees bumping on the bed, and Malfoy's bag fell to the floor.

"We don't have to do anything you don't wan—"

"I want, Potter," Malfoy said, looking straight into Harry's eyes. "I _want_."

Harry grinned. "Yeah? I _want_ too." He bit his lower lip when Malfoy's eyes immediately went to his mouth. "What's in the bag?"

Malfoy's cheeks pinked. "A change of clothes. Lube."

"Fuck…" Harry said, grabbing Malfoy's hands and then lacing their fingers together. "I couldn't take my eyes off these today… So lean and beautiful."

"Were you imagining something in particular?" Malfoy asked, his swallow audible.

Harry kissed Malfoy's right hand and then sucked on his index and middle fingers. Malfoy's breath caught, and he held onto Harry's shoulder as if his life dependent on it. When Harry let go of Malfoy's fingers, he kissed the tips of them.

"Not sure if I wanted you to stretch me open with them or if I wanted to see these wrapped around my cock as I—"

Then Malfoy kissed Harry. Harry smiled into the kiss before he pressed their hips together and parted his lips, inviting Malfoy's tongue in. They stayed like that for a long while, tongues saying hello, lips getting to know each other, and their breaths learning to flow and sync together. Kissing Malfoy felt natural. His entire body vibrated with approval, almost as if wondering why Harry hadn't been doing this all this time. 

Harry didn't know why, but he was unwilling to stop now. 

As they broke apart, Malfoy looked down at the purple jumper Harry was still wearing and pulled at it. "Never wear this in public ever again," he said.

Harry laughed, feeling smug. "Why?" He lifted the jumper over his head, took it off, and threw it on the floor. "Better?"

"Now, you're just showing off, Potter." Malfoy's hands travelled up and down his chest. "You best keep your clothes on around other people."

Harry threw his head back and laughed again. "I have less attractive jumpers. I wanted to impress you tonight."

"You were fairly successful. You should have seen the way both Longbottom and Pansy were staring at you. No doubt you've had that in your armoire for a while, then. You _knew_ what you were doing to me."

"I know what I want to be doing to you," Harry said, pulling Malfoy's shirt above his head. "You can have that jumper if you like it so much."

They crashed on the bed together, hands going to each other's trousers, struggling to remove the belts, and unbutton the bloody things before managing to removing their own. Harry tangled their legs together-Malfoy's feet were bloody freezing again-as his hands grabbed and squeezed Malfoy's arse.

"It'll look good on you. Everything does," Harry added.

Malfoy seemed to freeze up slightly, but he didn't stop grinding his hips against Harry's. His hands wrapped around both their erections, and he tugged gently. He groaned and arched as he spoke, "If I start wearing your clothes, then people will definitely become suspicious. If we're keeping this casual, it's best to be discreet, Potter."

"Yeah?" Harry bit down on Malfoy's neck, wanting to leave a mark there. "What if I want more than casual?"

_I want, Potter. I **want**_.

What did Malfoy want? More than casual? Maybe. Because at Harry's question, Malfoy's body relaxed. It was as if he was holding his breath, and he'd finally let it out.

Harry pulled Malfoy on top of him, settling him between Harry's legs, and they continued to writhe together. Harry grabbed Malfoy's arse, pulling him closer, increasing the friction between them a bit more. This felt like so much _more_ than in the morning, when it was nothing but his hand and the image of them together. This felt a million times better. Better than any other man in a long, long time.

They knew of each other, but didn't know each other all that well. And Harry wanted to get to know Malfoy. He wanted Malfoy to want to know him too.

Malfoy moaned. "I'm so close—"

"Kiss me," Harry pleaded, unsure of how or why, but his entire being demanded it. He wanted to feel Malfoy's lips on him as they spilled together. Malfoy obliged, and when their mouths pressed together, Harry swallowed their moans, all the while coming together on Malfoy's hand.

Rolling off his body, Harry watched Malfoy try to reach for his wand when Harry stopped him.

"What?" Malfoy asked, looking confused.

Without another word, Harry returned to licking and sucking on Malfoy's fingers. It tasted different than this morning, both of them mixed together, and when Harry looked at Malfoy, his fingers still in Harry's mouth, Harry felt smug all over again.

"Something you wanna say, Malfoy?" Harry licked his lips.

"Yes. I'm going to need you to fuck me later, Potter."

Harry chuckled low. "Give me a minute, Draco." Eventually, he allowed Malfoy to spell them clean all the way and then Harry pulled the covers over their tangled bodies.

"Yes, and you're definitely going to call me Draco as you come inside me," he demanded.

Harry's cock stirred with interest, and he knew it wasn't going to be long until that happened. 

"Your feet always this cold?" Harry asked, nibbling on Draco's ear while his fingers drew small circles on Draco's stomach. "Draco."

_Draco. Draco. Draco_. 

Draco let out a small whinge and pushed back against Harry's cock. "Unfortunately. I never liked sleeping with socks on, either." His smooth feet rubbed up and down Harry's legs. "Never found the right fit."

"Good thing you'll have me now." Harry kissed Draco.

"Yeah…" Draco sighed. "Good thing."

* * *

THE END


End file.
